


lamb of god

by btchbaby



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Awkward Sexual Situations, Body Worship, Enemies to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Some angst, Some sexy bits, demon!hyuck, exorcist!mark, ill tag as i go - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27733765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btchbaby/pseuds/btchbaby
Summary: In which Mark Lee lives in the shadow of his father, sculpted into becoming the perfect exorcist. Somewhere along the way he forgot how to feel.Then comes Donghyuck, who helps Mark learn what it's like to feel again.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀  ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀;orDonghyuck seductively crawls out of hell and into Mark's life.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 20
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this to help spread the Demon Hyuck Agenda

”My condolences, Mr. Lee.” 

It was drizzling. Drops of rain catching onto the top of the guests’ black umbrellas. Mark had left his own inside since the news stated it would be sunny all day, not that he cared, he was letting droplets fall into his face and drip down his neck, soaking the top of his suit. The young man’s expression was devoid of any emotion, he had been standing completely still in the middle of the yard, not returning any of the guests’ greetings or even acknowledging their sympathy. 

This was the ceremony for the unfortunate death of his father. So why did he feel so _indifferent?_ Was it because he wasn't related to him by blood? The man only raised the boy because he had been orphaned and the church volunteered to take him in. Mark didn't _hate_ him. He just hated what the man raised him into. Countless hours of his childhood were spent studying ways to direct a silver bullet straight into the heart of a demon. Learning ways to slice a throat at the perfect angle, or how to make holy water under ten seconds. He was taught to show no mercy, no empathy for the enemy. That the screams of agony were merely the excuses of the damned. He was forced to shove his emotions into the back of his mind, locked away at a young age. If he showed too much emotion he was scolded. Somewhere along the way he forgot how to cry in fear of the consequences. 

He felt indifferent _because_ this was the ceremony for the unfortunate death of his father, the head of the church, retired exorcist, and the one who taught him how to not feel. 

Mark blinked raindrops out of his eyes and walked back into the cathedral, excusing himself from more guests who wanted to speak with him. He shut the large entrance behind him, the cathedral itself was quite large, full of several floors in the side wings, where the living quarters were located. The main section was the largest area, ceiling rising high into the air, extravagant chandeliers of candles lighting the room. In the front was a stage where service was held, and where Mark got baptized each year on his birthday. No one in the church knew of his annual baptism except for his father and his brother. At the memory, the young man felt water filling his nose and throat, head being forcefully dunked underwater. He gulped and walked down the aisle, sitting down at a booth. It was empty inside and he felt more relaxed at the absence of voices. He sighed and closed his eyes. He whispered a quick prayer under his breath and then basked in the silence. 

A side door opened and in walked his foster brother, Johnny. A man who towered over most, despite his height being intimidating, his smile was gentle and kind. Dark hair. Features feline-like. His brother was the only one he could trust with his darkest secrets, his inner thoughts he would be too ashamed to share with his father. Mark sometimes envied the other’s happy-go-lucky attitude. Johnny was never brought up as the exorcist that would replace their father. 

”Hey kid,” Mark wasn't a child anymore but his brother remained to refer to him as such, “Wanna talk?” 

Mark gestured at the seat next to him as a way to say yes. The older man came over and sat down, buttons on his suit stretching. Johnny had been at the ceremony earlier to watch their father be put into the ground, but disappeared during the reception after. 

”You have a choice, you know?” His brother reassured, “No one is forcing you to be an exorcist anymore.” 

Mark unconsciously crossed his arms, “I don't have a choice.

As soon as Mark had gotten the news from the hospital that his father had passed, he began to pack. He kept the secret with only himself and Johnny knowing what he planned to do when father was gone. Their father was old so it was inevitable that he was going to pass soon, made quicker when he had a stroke in the middle of a sermon. Once it was guaranteed that the priest was gone, Mark would leave, refusing to take his father’s place at the church, and instead, follow his legacy of being the most powerful solo exorcist in the country. The war against demons was an immediate threat against humanity and several professional organizations were built to protect citizens and exterminate those who had given in to the dark. These organizations focused more on larger clusters that would form in the cities, usually looking past the smaller towns. Local exorcists had risen up to be the ones to protect those who were overlooked. There were always jobs popping up in news ads or over the internet from people asking for the nearest exorcist for help. Before his retirement, the well known exorcist that was his father had traveled across the country, taking on jobs, never staying in one place for too long. The priest advised Mark against traveling and to just stay local, told him he wouldn’t reach his ‘true potential’ if he was to take on random exorcisms in the middle of nowhere. But Mark knew that there were people out there that needed his help and he couldn't just ignore them. He had found a small town in the mountains that was looking for an exorcist for help, and bought a train ticket. He will be leaving tonight. 

”It's all I've ever known,” Mark continued, “I can't just unlearn everything that was taught. I might as well put it to use _somewhere._ ” 

”I just can't believe you're leaving your old man behind,” Johnny said chuckling, but Mark didn't miss the sniffle he heard, he looked his brother in the eyes and saw tears forming, “And I'm letting my baby brother loose out into the Big Bad World _all alone._ I mean– I haven't even properly given you The Talk yet.”

” _John!_ ,” Mark’s face turned red and he frantically looked around the room to make sure no one was in there to hear his brother’s scandalous words, he whisper-yelled, “We're in a _church._ ” 

Johnny chuckled at his younger brother’s reaction, he wiped tears out of his eyes and then softly spoke again, “Just promise me one thing, please?” Mark nodded for him to continue, “Never forget that you're human, it'll be difficult out there at times and know your limits. Emotions are _valid_. It's okay to feel. Don't give in to recklessness, can't have you throwing your health away. And know that you're home is always here with me, you're welcome back anytime.” Johnny pulled him into a hug

”Promise,” Mark mumbled into his brother’s shoulder, arms motionless until he lifted a hand to slowly pat at the other’s back.”

Johnny laughed and pulled away, “Also promise me one more thing? That you'll learn how to give a proper hug while you're gone.” 

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𖤐 

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Mark had managed to fill everything he owns and cherishes into a single leather suitcase. He wasn't a very materialistic person to begin with, but even he was surprised by the case’s weightlessness. He didn't keep that many clothes, just everything he owned that was black and comfortable, like his current outfit, including a long black coat, and the single pair of shoes he wore: heavy, black combat boots. A silver cross necklace hanging off his neck, a blade hidden inside. He also had hidden all the weapons that he didn't currently have on his person, into the suitcase. And a journal that he kept, full of written notes on demons and the occasional poem. 

He grabbed his train ticket and pocketed a wad of cash that consisted of all his life’s savings and made his way into the main building, stopping in front of a statue of Mary. Mark had never known a mother figure in his life. Ever since he was a child he secretly personified her as Mary. It helped having a mom to talk to, or go to when he was troubled. This statue was about all he had, and he didn't feel right if he didn't tell her goodbye before leaving. He cracked the faintest smile and whispered a farewell before making his exit out of the large entrance doors.

Back in the cathedral, it was now empty except for the statue of Mary standing still. Red liquid began to pool in the corner of her eyes.

 _Blood_. 

The statue of Mary was crying blood.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

𖤐 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

The doors hissed as they opened, Mark stepped off and into the foggy abyss that was the bus stop. His hands were safe from the cold, buried deep in his coat pockets. His face, however, was exposed to the chilly air. A soft pink dusted onto his cheeks and nose. Each breath he took was a visible puff of air. 

He had taken a train and two bus rides to reach this tiny hidden town. The stop was merely just a simple bench, standing on the side of a long road, in between a forest of conifer, that seemed to go on for miles in either direction. The dark of the night and fog making it difficult to make out any buildings. The young man spotted a blot of red in the distance. He realized it was a neon sign. He took a gamble that he could maybe be pointed in the right direction there, gripped onto the handle of his suitcase, and followed the side of the road, into the dense fog. 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

As he approached he could finally make out the letters the red light spelled out. It was a diner, faint yellow lights emitting from inside. From outside he could tell one of the bulbs looked like a change was long overdue, it flickered and struggled to keep a section of the booths lit up. 

He pushed the glass door open and a bell chimed, alerting an older lady who was standing behind the counter, leaning on the bar, cigarette between her manicured, hot pink nails. At the sight of the new customer she put it out against the metal of a napkin holder and tossed it into a bin. She and a couple of older men, probably truck drivers, were the only residents of the restaurant. Faint rock music from decades ago played on a jukebox that was standing next to the entrance. 

Mark sat at the bar, trying to sit as far away from the other men as possible. He sat his suitcase down on the stool next to him, the waitress said something to one of the drivers that made the older man chuckle under his breath, and then made her way over to the young man to take his order. 

”I'll just take a coffee, black,” a simple order so the lady didn't even bother taking out the notepad and pen that was poking out of her apron pocket. She left to go chat with the truckmen again, while preparing the young man’s coffee. 

She returned with a mug, setting it down. Mark sipped at the hot liquid, already warming him up, and heard the chime of a bell go off behind him. Another young man walked into the restaurant, walking up to the bar, leaning over and calling to the waitress in a cheery tone, voice like a honeyed melody, “Strawberry milkshake please! Extra whip and one of those cute lil’ cherries on top too,” the new customer looked down at the barstool, which had Mark’s suitcase laying on it, he gave a bright smile, “Mind if I sit?” 

He set his suitcase aside and the other sat down. The young man’s appearance took Mark by surprise, features that could naturally be a model’s. Almond eyes, plump lips. A mess of curly locks on top his head, that may have looked like someone had just gotten out of bed, but it suited him perfectly. His skin was sunkissed, a starking indicator that he wasn't from around here, where the sun could hardly reach. His outfit was put together, fashionable, swimming in an oversized sweater that made his frame look smaller. Mark wasn't sure how the stranger was okay without a coat or scarf.

The exorcist had never been attracted to a boy before. He also had never found girls attractive either. He was too focused on his studies, never having time to socialize with anyone outside of the church. The stranger’s pretty face painfully made his childhood crush on Danny Phantom make all the more sense. 

”You're _staring._ ” The stranger pointed out to Mark. 

The ethereal appearance, not being from around here, seemingly unaffected by the cold, this started to make sense to the exorcist. He asked, serious, “Are you an angel?” He had never met one before but he was sure if anyone had to be one, it had to be the boy sitting next to him. Them meeting here couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. 

Not to Mark’s expectations, the stranger’s eyes grew wide for a moment, caught off guard, then he cackled at the exorcist, “Well I haven't really heard _that one_ before.” 

”Pardon?” Mark scrunched his brows in confusion. 

The waitress returned and slid the milkshake over, before she could leave Mark called out to her, “Excuse me?,” The lady turned back and hummed in question, Mark pulled out a slip of paper and set in on the counter, an address was neatly written onto it. He tapped at it, “Think you could help point me in a direction?”

She picked the paper up and looked over it a couple of times, “This would be further up the mountain darling. I don't suggest you go there tonight, too dangerous. Especially with the attacks that have been happening around here lately.”

She set the paper back down and left again, “Okay, thank you.” He pocketed it before the boy next to him could peek. 

The stranger sipped at his milkshake, “Visiting family?” He popped the cherry into his mouth. 

The jukebox began to play _Highway to Hell_ by AC/DC.

”Yeah,” Mark lied. “Guess I'll have to find somewhere to stay tonight, though.” 

The angelic boy hummed, one of his elbows propped up on the bar holding his head up, body facing Mark. Then he brought his free hand to his soft lips, slowly pulling out a cherry stem. A knot was tied into the middle of it. Mark thought that was a strange thing to do with a stem. Why bother going through all that trouble? The other spoke, “I've been staying at a motel not that far a walk from here, I could take you there.”

”Oh. That would be really great, thank you.” So there _were_ still good people out there. 

The other tapped his fingers against the side of his face, thinking, looking the exorcist up and down, then said, “You know your eyes are so big and innocent looking? They remind me of a little lamb. Could I call you that?” 

Mark blinked owlishly, “I would rather you call me Mark.” 

”Oh?” The boy smirked, “Then you could call me Haechan.” 

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀

Haechan was right, the walk hadn't been very far. They came across a four section with a small motel and an outdated gas station across from it. The motel was small and dainty like the diner had been. Another large neon sign that had shone like a guiding light in the sea of fog. No cars were in sight as they crossed the road. 

They were near the side of the building when Haechan suddenly grabbed Mark’s arm, twisting it behind him and slamming the exorcist against the brick wall with inhuman strength. The exorcist’s cheek was painfully squished into the brick. His suitcase clattered to the ground. 

”I know what you are and I'm going to give you a little warning,” The boy’s breath was hot against Mark’s ear, “The demon’s _mine._ So back off.” 

Mark snorted, devoid of any humor, “ _Oh._ I get it now,” he dug his elbow into the other’s stomach, grabbing him and whipping him around, slamming his back into the wall where Mark had just been. He flipped the blade out of the cross necklace, pressing it up against the other’s honeyed throat, right on top of a freckle, “You're an exorcist too,” Mark’s eyebrows furrowed, “But if that's the case, why don't we just work together? We both want the same thing and it's not like we’re being paid much.” 

Haechan lifted his chin, as if to look down on the other, “Oh, I'm not an exorcist.” He smiled, flashing a pair of sharp canines that Mark _definitely_ didn't remember being there before. He spoke in a melody that dripped with honey when he told the other, “And I'm sure as hell no _angel._ " 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what u think down in the comments!! 
> 
> [ questions?](https://curiouscat.qa/robotwow_)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mark and his inner demon make out in a car (100% clickbait)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ sad and horny with a dash of anarchy ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5hvYziRvY3PHz4hHAo9eRH?si=CJdILCRLS5i6midiWyhXhA)

Mark finished loading his revolver with silver bullets and tossed it onto the motel bed, next to a scattered pile of assorted weaponry. He adjusted the black leather strap that was wrapped around his waist. It held vials of holy water and his trusted dagger, which was passed down to him from the church, his father. It's handle was porcelain and was painted a scene of roses and cherubs. The latin phrase, ‘ _Damnatio ad bestias_ ’, was etched into the silver of the blade. He picked his revolver back up and tucked it into the back of his ebony jeans.

He tugged at the itchy turtleneck that covered bruises that Haechan had left on his neck the night prior. Mark scowled at the reminder of what happened. 

_The demon had kicked the exorcist back, making him lose his grip on his switchblade. Hands found their way around Mark’s throat, pinning him down onto the concrete._

_Haechan had snickered down at the exorcist and practically purred, “You know when you're angry, your eyes look more like a wolf’s, _little lamb_.” _

_The demon had burst into a ball of dark flames, consuming him until he disappeared. Leaving Mark alone on the ground, coughing and trying to regain stolen breath._

Mark sighed and threw his coat and boots on, leaving the motel room, making sure to lock the door behind him. Though he was sure that wouldn't do much to stop any hellspawn from breaking in, he still locked it just to be safe. 

The trek up the mountain would be awfully long without a vehicle. The exorcist considered himself lucky when he found out the motel also had cars to rent. He paid the clerk in cash and was handed the keys to a beat up looking mustang from the 80’s. Old, and one of the side view mirrors was hanging on by an excessive amount of duct tape, but worked.

He twirled the keychain around on his finger, then opened the car door. The inside was a saude crimson. Mysterious stains and cigarette burns marked the seats. He hesitantly sat down and struggled with the buckle, then sighed and tapped his fingers against the leather wheel. The young man had never owned a car before, usually just borrowing his older brother’s instead. Although he only owned this car for the day, and it smelled questionable, it made him feel.. kind of more independent, in a way. 

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The address led Mark to a house hidden within the trees. White paint chipping off the exterior, the pond in the front yard frosted over. Morning light reflecting off the surface of it.

He knocked.

Mark was taken aback when the door immediately swung open, a frantic woman was standing in the doorway, taking in the young man’s appearance. She asked hesitantly, “Are you an exorcist?” When he nodded in confirmation, she smiled and stepped to the side, “Come in, please.” 

He was led to an open living room, outdated floral wallpaper decorated the walls behind picture frames that held family memories. A fireplace was against one wall, TV on the wall above it, along with a shelf with more family portraits. This place felt much more domestic than Mark’s living quarters at the church ever did. “Please, sit. Do you drink coffee?” The exorcist nodded and made himself comfortable on the couch. There were well worn spots on the cushions that suggested it had been lounged on a lot over the years. 

The lady returned with a steaming mug and handed it to Mark. He thanked her, and she sat down on a loveseat across from the couch. 

She waited until the other took a sip before speaking, “Thank goodness someone finally showed up,” the woman waved her hands around, “I've been staying at the house hoping someone would eventually come to help.”

”Right.” Mark lifted the mug back to his lips before asking, “Is there any particular reason why it's you that is asking for the exorcism?” 

”It's my son,” she admitted and Mark’s eyes widened, “He was possessed. There– ,” she inhaled, “There’s been reports along the mountain lately. A demon breaking into houses and attacking people. And I don't want to believe it's him… But.” 

”I’m sorry to hear that,” the exorcist sat the mug down on a coffee table. He never took well to showing or accepting any sort of sympathy, he hoped he sounded sincere though in his apology. He was truly sorry for her loss. 

She looked the exorcist in the eyes, “Could you bring my son back home to me?” 

Mark’s lips tightened, “I'm sorry, ma’am. I'm afraid once someone's let the demon take over, there's no bringing them back.“ 

” _No._ ” She stumbled from her seat, standing, “Please there has to be _something._ Anything. Please I—” 

”–I'll try everything I can,” the exorcist stood up, “but that shouldn't give you any hope.” He made a move to walk out before adding, “I'm sorry, but your son’s not coming back. Thanks for the coffee.” 

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𖤐 

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Mark waited until sunset. He had driven around until he found an abandoned gas station, needing a place to lure the demon that was vacant. Which, was already a large majority of this town.

He now stood in the middle of the empty parking lot. The headlights on the car lit the area up enough so that he could see as much as he could through the thick fog that still spilled out into the area. 

Demon's usually flocked towards chaos and murder. Anything indicating an act of sin was committed. This is why they were seen most frequently in the city. Where there were people there was chaos. Despite the town’s low population, it was no exception. 

If Mark had guessed right, the attacks must've followed after a family had innocently lit their fireplace. Unsuspecting to a demon’s taste for the flames. The fire being a symbol for rage. 

He wasn't planning on committing any arson tonight, however, so he settled on another symbol for chaos. _Blood._

The exorcist brought his dagger to the palm of his hand. Red drops of liquid spilled out onto the concrete. He didn't mind the stinging pain it left behind. A sacrifice for the greater good, he supposed. He wiped the blade off on his jeans and slid it back into its holster.

Not long after, rustling came from the forest, Mark was swift to react, drawing his gun and taking aim at the sound. 

Within a heartbeat, a figure jumped out from the fog, rushing straight towards the exorcist. A hand suddenly grabbed at his arm, pushing it up towards the darkening sky right as he pulled the trigger, making the gun go off in vain. The figure’s grip tightened and then a hand was grabbing Mark’s other arm, pushing him back and pinning him against the hood of the mustang, back colliding harshly against the rusted metal.

”You _idiot._ ” It was Haechan, looking a whole lot more disheveled than the night prior. Shreds were cut into his sweater, dark blood dripped down his forehead, his eyes shone a frantic, striking red. The demon snarled, sharp teeth flashing as he spoke, “I told you not to get _involved_.” 

”And I should listen to a fiend like you, why?” The exorcist spat back, struggling to escape Haechan’s hold. 

Just as the sun set, the sounds of inhuman screeching echoed out into the night. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked at the demonin question. 

“Because it might just save some lives.”

Haechan grabbed at Mark’s gun, pulling it out of his grip. The demon backed up and then took stance, swinging his arm back, then tossing the revolver deep into the forest. It flew in the air for an extended amount of time due to the demon’s ridiculous strength, making it completely out of the exorcist’s reach. 

In bewildered outrage, Mark peeled himself off of the car, ”What in _good heaven’s name_ was that for?” 

More rustling came from the forest, and another demon revealed itself, this time looking nowhere near as human as Haechan seemed. It was shrouded in shadows, towering high among the trees. Bright red eyes blinked into the dark like the headlights that still illuminated the area. It's hands were contorted and stretched into long, vicious looking claws. A wicked pair of black horns were on top of its head. This hellspawn was so much larger and deformed than any the exorcist had ever seen before. The screams that the beast conjured were overwhelming to the human’s ears.

Haechan shook the exorcist’s shoulder to bring him back from his state of surprise, “Distract it,” he ordered, then was running off into the opposite direction.

There wasn't much time before the towering creature was taking slashes towards Mark. Despite being taken aback by its appearance, his reflexes still kicked in instantly. He quickly dodged and grabbed a vile of holy water off of his belt, throwing it at the monster. The glass shattered and the creature let out another painful screech. Steam emitted from the area on its body the water had come into contact with.

Haechan got as far back as possible and then crouched down, pulling out a stick of red chalk from his pocket. He began dragging it across the concrete, forming a large pentagram. The demon called out, “Hey stupid!,” catching the attention of both the exorcist and the giant beast, “Come get your ass over here!” Mark nearly tripped in his haste.

Mark continued to run past the demon crouching on the ground. When he realized Haechan wasn't following he turned back, the beast was heading straight for them, “What are you _doing?_ ”

Haechan remained crouched down, calmly watching the monster run at him, waiting until it reached the pentagram. He slammed his hand down on top of the red chalk and shouted, “ _Ad profundis, phasma!_ ” 

At the demon’s words, the pentagram spontaneously burst into a geyser of black flames that reached far out into the heavens. Mark stumbled back in fear of getting burned. The fire completely consumed the giant beast and it cried out in roaring agony.

The hellfire ceased, and the monster was no longer there. In its place stood a young boy. 

The exorcist froze. He couldn't find his breath when he had gone his entire life believing without seeing, and now that a sight lay before him so painfully _real_ , he simply did not want to _believe._ The young boy who stood before him in the middle of a hastily drawn pentagram was no doubt the son of the woman from before. 

Even though Mark had barely scanned over the pictures in the house, he had taken a mental note of the faces he saw repeating themselves in more than one picture. A kid was seen in most of them, always standing next to his mother. 

The young man had been taught by his father that once someone allowed a demon to take over them, their soul was eaten and was gone forever, leaving behind a shell for the demon to puppeteer. He had never been shown a way to bring the possessed person back, having thought that the effort would be futile. What the demon before him just did suggested that perhaps his father had been wrong, and that there _was_ a way to bring them back. 

_No._

If that were true then that would also suggest all of the demons he witnessed his father kill over the years, would have been taken down along with a living, innocent soul still residing inside. 

But then there were the screams. Every hellspawn that had fallen at the hands of his father– Every exorcist who had ever taken on a job had all drawn out the most agonizing screams from the possessed. He was supposed to believe that those screams were of the fallen, that if he heard someone whisper a _’Help me’_ along with the screams that it was just a lie. A trick from the devil to persuade him into helping evil. The cries and pleads were so _loud_ in his memory, screaming over his own reassurances that Haechan had just created an illusion and that none of this was real. Mark’s ears were ringing and he felt dizzy. He held the sides of his head and squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to help suppress the noise into the back of his mind, he just _had_ to. Otherwise he would break. 

“Hey are you good?” He heard a gentle voice call out to him, bringing him back to where he still stood in the empty parking lot of an abandoned gas station. 

It was the demon, the one who was now holding the child in his arms. Mark hadn't noticed Haechan had made his way into the pentagram to comfort the little boy. The child looked into the exorcist’s eyes, having now noticed his presence. He looked frightened, tears streaking down his cheeks, shaking. He was barefoot and only in his pajamas. Every instinct that had been drilled into Mark was telling him that this kid could turn back into that giant beast from before at any moment and that he should make a run for it. But the scared look in the kid’s eyes, the memories of terrible screams, the image of his father telling him that he would never be strong enough to save anyone, were all telling a completely different story. 

His head was still pounding, but the exorcist sighed out, “Yeah, I'll be fine,” then he made his way over to Haechan, who was still holding onto the small boy, and shrugged off his long coat and wrapped it around the kid’s shoulders. “Right now we just need to get him home.” 

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The exorcist let the young boy walk to the door himself, staying back in the car, and watched as the kid knocked on the front door. The lady from before opened the door and immediately wrapped her son in her arms at the sight of him. The exorcist couldn't hear what she was saying and when she looked over her son’s shoulder to glare at Mark still sitting in the car, he knew it had something to do with him. The exorcist paled, guilt pulling at his chest, and pulled out of the driveway. 

”Geez. What was her deal?” The demon in the passenger seat asked. 

”I basically convinced her that her son was dead.” 

” _Oh._ ”

On the drive over Haechan had agreed with him to stay in the passenger seat after they dropped the boy off so that they could talk. He was honestly not expecting the demon to comply when he had been nothing but aggressive with him before. 

The car was stiflingly quiet. The exorcist was hesitant to ask any questions when he didn't even know where to start. He tapped nervously at the wheel and kept his gaze out to the dark road in front of him. The silence was almost as suffocating as his baptisms had been.

Thankfully the demon spoke first, “My name’s actually Donghyuck, by the way. I usually don't trust exorcists but you seem willing enough to listen.” 

”...Donghyuck.” 

”That's the name, don't wear it out.” 

Mark almost audibly huffed but refrained and stayed silent, waiting for the demon to continue. 

”Demon’s don't actually possess people, you humans flatter yourselves _way_ too much with that idea, honestly.” This time Mark _did_ let out a huff. “We actually are just people who made a deal with the other demon’s before us. Our soul bound to hell in exchange for a wish. Some of us work for hell, others are just stuck in it. And that _thing_ back there,” The demon pointed a thumb behind him, “Was actually a malevolent spirit that escaped from hell.”

“Like… a ghost?” 

“Yeah. Kinda like ghosts. Nasty little things that are incredibly pissed about being stuck in hell for the rest of eternity so whenever there's the smallest crack in the gates between worlds they slip out, possessing the first person they come in contact with and then wreaking havoc.” 

Mark furrowed his brows, ”Then what's with you bringing the spirit back? You're a demon, wouldn't you _like_ for something to wreak havoc?”

The said demon gasped and dramatically clutched at his own chest, “You already think so lowly of me even though this is only just our second date–” Mark nearly drove the car off the road, Haech- No, _Donghyuck_ held onto the dashboard for dear life, “By _Lucifer_! You could've sent me straight back to the underworld.” 

The exorcist’s grip on the wheel tensed, “You didn't answer my question.” 

Donghyuck clicked his tongue and leaned back into the seat, arms crossed, “Although I like a little chaos every now and then, I don't condone _murder_. Well–” He looked over at the exorcist and scanned over his body, “Sometimes I consider it but my job unfortunately _prohibits_ it. I'm one of the few demons in charge of rounding up spirits on the loose. We demons, of course, wouldn't care about some ghouls stirring up trouble, but we get punished by the Big People Upstairs if we don’t keep them in check.” 

”Upstairs? You mean like heaven? You've seen it??” 

”Pfft. _No._ I mean our higher ups, the rulers of hell.” He looked up at the ceiling of the car, as if checking out the sky through it, “I don't know what heaven’s like. Who knows what's going on up there? Probably like, _cloud orgies_ or something.” 

Mark furrowed his brows in confusion, “Is that, like, a type of dance?” 

Donghyuck changed the topic, “Anyways, exorcists have no idea what they are doing and should really stop trying to do hell’s job. Especially since they've taken so many innocent lives at the false guise of justice.” 

”They– We didn't know...” Mark swallowed hard, knowing that his words couldn't speak for every exorcist in the world. “Then why hasn't hell tried to do anything to stop them?” 

”That's what I've been _trying_ to do but it's not quite so easy when every exorcist wants you dead.” 

It was silent for a moment before Mark confessed, ”I can't say I exactly _like_ you but I don't wish death on you.” 

”You literally had a knife to my throat last night.” 

”...Right.” 

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The exorcist pulled into the motel parking lot, cutting off the engine to the car. Instead of getting out, he spoke to the demon, “You're still an ungodly creature. Something birthed from pure evil. I will consider your words as a possible truth but know that if you are deceiving me that I will surely send you straight back to hell. “ 

” _Oh?_ ” Donghyuck smiled in amusement, eyes flashing red, "Are you that afraid of me, human?” 

Mark instinctively grabbed onto the handle of his dagger, ready to defend himself if needed. “I fear no evil,” He glared at the demon accompanying him in the vehicle through the corner of his eyes. Watching as he slowly propped his elbows on the armrest between them. His face now merely inches away from the other. There wasn't a whole lot of space in the car to begin with. 

”Is that all you see me as?” The demon leaned in impossibly closer and traced his eyes across the exorcist's face, taking in every sharp angle, every freckle, the angle of his nose, the rosy hue that spread onto the tips of his ears. "I don't know if I should take it as rude or flattering, to see me as something so sinful. Something so forbidden, unholy, _malicious._ " 

Mark gulped, completely frozen like prey that had been spotted by a predator. His grip on his dagger tightened. Donghyuck continued, “Can you not face me? Too scared to look me in the eyes?” 

In challenge the exorcist turned his head to look at the other, only to immediately regret it. The demon spoke, breath ghosting across the exorcist’s lips, “Tell me, what is it you're so afraid of?” 

"Uh," Mark said intelligently. He couldn't admit that the position they were in absolutely terrified him. This hellspawn backing him into a corner, telling honey dipped, devilish lies. Ungodly eyes that shone beautifully, alluring, tempting. The demon's soft lips should be considered sacrilegious. Mark considered them. 

Everything about Donghyuck was so, _so_ wrong. His entire existence was the personification of temptation. And the exorcist was scared. So afraid that he wouldn't be able to look away. 

The demon smiled coyly, "You're staring again, little lamb." 

"Yeah," Mark wheezed out, unaware that he had been holding his breath. 

Donghyuck backed off, the exorcist suddenly missing the feeling of warmth the demon radiated. "You have nothing to fear from me. If anything, I should be afraid of _you._ ” He looked at the exorcist’s hand that was still tightly wrapped around the silver dagger. 

The demon smiled gently, and then slowly brought his hand over Mark’s callused one. He pulled it up and flipped it over, revealing his palm. The exorcist wanted to pull away, but the touch from the other was so _gentle_. And Donghyuck was looking him right in the eyes as if asking for his permission. When Mark said nothing the demon brought the palm to his lips, leaving a chaste kiss right over the cut from Mark’s dagger, still holding eye contact. 

The exorcist quickly brought his hand out from the other’s hold, as if burned. He furrowed his brows at the demon, flustered. 

Donghyuck giggled at the human and said, “You should probably take care of that. And I'll be back in the morning; you're coming with me to the next job." 

Before Mark could protest, Donghyuck burst into dark flames, consuming him until the flames died and all that was left behind was an empty passenger seat for the exorcist to gape at. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Damnatio ad bestias_ \- an ancient roman execution order that involved throwing someone out to be eaten alive by wild beasts
> 
> theres no particular reason why i chose that to put on the dagger other than it just sounded pretty metal
> 
> _ad profundis_ \- to the depths 
> 
> _phasma_ \- ghost
> 
> also i am by no means fluent in latin and if I made any mistakes and you just happen to know the language let me know so I can correct it!!  
> sorry this chapter took a bit long to get out! hopefully the next wont take as long :)  
> let me know what you think! 
> 
> [ curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/robotwow_)
> 
> [ twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/btchbabyhyuck)


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